


right where i went wrong

by agrestenoir, lydiascribbles



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Closet Sex, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hate Sex, Miscommunication, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Romance, Rough Sex, There's gonna be so much plot in here after the first chapter dear GOD, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 10:49:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12231312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agrestenoir/pseuds/agrestenoir, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lydiascribbles/pseuds/lydiascribbles
Summary: The fucking, it turned out, wasn’t a one-time deal.This was a lesson Marinette was slow to learn.Or: Marinette and Chloe don't know how to fight without fucking, and of course things like love and matters of the heart complicate things, but hate and love are sometimes too intertwined to tell the difference between.





	right where i went wrong

The first time they fuck, it’s an accident. Or at least, as far as Marinette was aware.

Marinette wanted to make that completely clear. It wasn’t her idea nor was it her initial intention. Sometimes, things had a way of happening, like they’re meant to, and for some reason, falling into bed with Chloe Bourgeois fell along those lines.

It’s post-battle after a raging akuma wreaked havoc among the Seine, nearly flooding the surrounding shops and drowning unsuspecting civilians, and Ladybug had to put up with a Chat Noir who apparently _still can’t swim,_ a Rena Rogue who kept getting captured, and a Queen Bee who couldn’t land a hit. At the end of it, Ladybug was angry and tired. Regardless, Queen Bee had a few choice words to share with her and how she dealt with the akuma, criticizing her for blocking open shots to get the glory, and Ladybug’s had it up to _here_ with her teammate. Unable to let the yellow and black-striped hero have the last word, she followed Queen Bee back to the hotel, detransforming on the deserted rooftop and stomping after Chloe Bourgeois. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Marinette yelled as she stormed through the roof-access door. Chloe paid her little attention, continuing her trek down the stairs, so Marinette hurried after her. “Listen to me when I’m talking to you!”

“I’m sorry, did you become my boss during the last ten minutes?” Chloe called back over her shoulder, voice bouncing off the walls. “I don’t have to listen to you.”

“That’s not my point!” Marinette slammed a hand against the railing, and the dull _thud_ reverberated through the stairwell. Her anger was bubbling up, like frothy foam, and if she didn’t restrain herself, it might all explode. “You had one job, and you didn’t do it.”

“You don’t get to decide what my job is,” Chloe snapped, “You don’t get to decide anything for me.” 

Bolstered by her anger, red tinging the edges of her vision, Marinette bolted down a level until she had cornered Chloe in the middle of the landing. “You think you’re so smart,” she growled, voice low and rough, “Think you deserve to be the leader? News flash, Chlo: this is a _team_ , and you’re fucking _on_ it.”

Chloe crossed her arms against her chest, blue eyes flashing heatedly under the dim stairwell lighting. “No one gave you that position either, Miss Dupain-Cheng.”

“At least I was trying to do my job and not get caught up trying to be a hero.” Marinette crept closer, lips pursed in a thin line. “Duty first, glory second. It’s the first thing you learned when you got your Miraculous, and it’s something you should try to remember if you want to keep it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chloe growled, and _damn_ , Marinette thought, _now she looks pissed._

Knowing her words had hit close to the mark, Marinette circled around Chloe on the landing, like a predator to a prey, trying to find her next target. “You got that Miraculous because we thought you deserved it. Don’t make us change our mind.”

And Marinette knew it _hurt._ From the way Chloe’s lips pulled back in a growl, eyes narrowed with ire, she knew exactly how her friend would react to her words. Chloe had told her countless times before how much the Miraculous and being Queen Bee meant to her, and the thought of losing it might just crush her. And that was the whole _point_ of her fucking conversation. She’d use anything that would convince Chloe of the severity of her actions if she didn’t change sometime soon.

What she hadn’t counted on was Chloe’s hands against her chest, the force accompanying it, and the freefall as she went hurtling into the white-painted brick behind her. Shoulders bouncing off the wall, she placed her hands on the cool surface to find an anchor, anything to ground her flurry of thoughts and emotions.

“You…” Marinette was suddenly at a lost for words.

“You don’t get to take my Miraculous,” Chloe said, charging forward, hands reaching for Marinette’s dress and fingers curling into the collar of the pink fabric. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. You don’t get to make me do anything. This is about _me_ , and _you_ aren’t a part of it.”

Still reeling from Chloe’s onslaught, Marinette could only grasp the other’s wrist and hold on tight. “Y-You bitch,” she spat, “I’m not scared of you.”

“Really?” Chloe cocked her head, leaning forward until hot breath tickled Marinette’s cheeks. “Because maybe you should be.” Marinette responded by driving her head forward, bucking her forehead into Chloe’s nose, and smacked her hands away the moment the blonde let out a squawk of indignation, cursing wildly under her breath.

“Well maybe _you_ should be scared of _me_ ,” she said, one hand locking onto the front of Chloe’s shirt. The idea was to keep her in front so that Marinette could prepare for any other attacks—so long as she could see it coming, Chloe wouldn’t able to surprise her again.

“Oh please,” Chloe snarled, “You don’t even know what I could do to you, Ladybug.”

“I’d like to see you try something, Queen Bee,” she snapped back.

There was a short beat of silence, the space between them filled with pounding hearts and harsh gasps, and then Chloe jumped into action. Hands reaching for Marinette’s collar once more, the superheroine had no time to react before the blonde was pushing herself forward, past her defenses, and smashing her lips to Marinette’s. It was a mess of spit and teeth, dirty and aggressive, but _oh my god, so good, what in the world—?!_

Once her thoughts finally caught up to the present, Marinette pulled away as abruptly as Chloe had come in. “What the _fuck_ was _that_?” she shouted, nearly screamed, because _what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck_ was all that was racing through her head.

Chloe laughed, low and hard. “How’s that for ‘something’? All’s fair in love and war, sweetie.” 

But Marinette was never one to let Chloe Bourgeois have the last word. After ten years of knowing her, five years of being friends, if there was one thing to know about their relationship, it was that they were both too headstrong to know when to back down. If Chloe gave an inch, Marinette fought for a mile. This time around, if Chloe was going to steal kiss, then Marinette was taking more. 

Chloe’s smug smile faded, forming an _oh!_ of surprise when Marinette practically leapt towards her, and kissed her—fiercely and fully. Tongue tracing the seam of Chloe’s lips, she licked her way inside, tasting peppermint on her teeth and the hot press of Chloe’s tongue. She buried a hand in the blonde locks, tugging Chloe closer, until they were pressed up against each other, body to body.

When Marinette finally stepped back, Chloe let out a groan of protest. “What?” she asked between gasps. “Can’t finish what you started, Dupain-Cheng?” 

“My name’s Marinette.” She tightened her grip on Chloe’s hair to drill the point home. 

Chloe fixed her with an icy glare, blue eyes glittered like cold jewels, before she leaned forward, hot breath tickling the shell of Marinette’s ear, and whispered, “Then give me a reason to say it.” 

Without another word, Marinette grabbed a fistful of Chloe’s designer jacket, that stupid yellow one she knew the blond was particularly fond of, and spun them around. Their lips collided in a smear of red lipstick and spit, tongue and teeth, delving deeper and deeper as they fought for dominance. Marinette finally got the upper hand, pressing Chloe into the wall, and slid her hands down to her hips. Finding the hem of her shirt wasn’t too much trouble, and fingers dipped under to find the cool expanse of smooth skin.

Anchoring an elbow into the wall behind her, Chloe drove forward until she was pushing Marinette away, and proceeded to grab her forearm. “If you’re doing this, then we’re getting a room.” 

There was a moment of hesitation as Marinette tried to find her bearings, but Chloe was dragging her through a door, down a small hallway, and into a storage closet at the end. “This’ll work,” she muttered under her breath, fumbling with the door knob, but then the room was open, and Marinette was pulled inside.  

The two of them stumbled in a disjointed dance, slamming into walls of the too small space, and Marinette found herself between a metal cupboard and a mop bucket. Bolstered by the fury still sweeping through her, the heart slamming against her rip cage and blood pounding past her ears, Marinette made quick work of Chloe’s jacket, ripping it off and then sliding her hands back under the shirt, until they’d reached the hem of Chloe’s bra. 

Meanwhile, Chloe was making quick work of her dress, fingers slipping underneath and playing with the waistband of her panties. “Lace?” she asked, judgement twinkling in her eyes, and Marinette pursed her lips in a thin line. 

She pushed the cup of Chloe’s bra up, thumb smoothing over the nipple beneath. “Satin?” she retorted, and Chloe’s response was lost in a wanton moan.

“Y-You’re…”

Without another word, satisfied with the progress she was making, Marinette grabbed a fistful of Chloe’s hair and yanked her forward, mouths colliding and bodies pressed close. Chloe’s hands bunched Marinette’s dress around her hips, finally pulling her underwear down, and Marinette began to quiver in anticipation.

Running the prior events through her head, she still wasn’t sure how she’d gotten here, connecting the dots from point A to B, and all she knew was that she was left with a mess of scribbles and sex. Hands shaking, she drew circles on the skin of Chloe’s breast as the other girl ran warm fingers over the curve of Marinette’s hips, writing words into the crook of her leg, and it was all she could do to pretend that it didn’t matter—that nothing they were doing bore any weight, like it had meaning or packed a punch. Because at the end of the day, this was something born out of fury and righteousness, from two people who but heads more than they were friends, who’s share of bad days overshadowed their good ones.

But then Chloe’s hands were between her legs, exploring warm flesh that sent sparks sizzling up her spine, and Marinette shuddered against the wall, and she found that it _really_ didn’t matter. Soon there was a firm press against her wet slit, teasing and flittering along her lips, and her eyes snapped open.

“Feel good, Dupain-Cheng?” Chloe’s voice was a sweet and raspy whisper in her ear, but Marinette made no move to respond, waiting for the moment she got what she wanted. The finger refused to move any farther though, and a growl slipped into the space between them.

If Chloe was going to start this, then Marinette was sure as hell going to finish it.

“I can’t tell,” Marinette snarled, “You aren’t doing much.”

And that did it.

Chloe’s fingers dipped into her, pushing past her entrance, and press deep inside. In response, Marinette pressed her lips to Chloe’s collar bone (anything to hide that soft gasp that escaped) and sucked at the skin there, leaving a blossoming mark for Chloe to remember her by later. Chloe was thrusting her finger, knuckle deep, with earnest now, thumb tickling the edges of her clit, with lips curled into a smug grin.

“G-God, _Chlooo,”_ Marinette can’t help but groan, lost in the _push-pull_ feeling as Chloe explored her passage, delving deeper and deeper, until Marinette’s legs were quivering and quaking, so much that she could barely stand.

"Mmm," droned Chloe, her free hand coming up to wrap fingers in the dark fringe plastered against Marinette's face with sweat, grabbing a handful of hair to pull her head back. "You're so wet and warm, almost like you've been waiting to get fucked up against the wall all day, eh, Marinette?" Her tongue came out, licking the side of Marinette's neck before pressing quick, sloppy kisses across her jawline.

Anger bubbled in the pit of her stomach, and desperate not to lose this game, Marinette snuck a hand between Chloe’s legs, pulled her zipper down with a sharp _zzziimmm_ , and wiggled inside. Fingers rubbing against the thin material of the other woman’s underwear, Marinette was quick to find her clit, knowing exactly when she’d found it the moment Chloe’s eyes rolled back, her own pleasure and arousal sparking ten-fold.

"You're one to talk," Marinette said as she tugged Chloe's panties aside and traced her lips, dipping into the wet heat with one, teasing finger. "Think you're in control, think you're all that, but at the end of the day, you're as desperate as me."

The two continued their quests, wet and obscene sounds echoing through the storage closet, while lips and teeth collided in messy, perfect kisses. Each found a rhythm, hips jerking into hands, and fingers pressing, roaming, rubbing, thrusting—it was all so hard and aggressive, something that Marinette had never known she even _liked_ , but somehow, in this moment, it was exactly what they needed.

“Yeah,” Chloe said between gasps, hot breath puffing against Marinette’s neck. “Come on, Dupain-Cheng, you like that?”

Marinette squirmed against the wall, the metal shelf poking angrily her low back, as she rolled her hips down onto Chloe’s fingers, desperate for more of the warm, languid strokes the other girl was giving. “Could be better,” she said finally, once she found the air to speak with. 

Things only escalated from there. 

By the time they’re done, both were puddles, legs shaking and fingers fumbling, as they readjusted clothing and smoothed out wrinkles. Shoulders heaving, cheeks a dark, rosy red, with lips plump and wet, the evidence of their fight (if you could even call it that) were painted across their faces. 

“What was that?” Marinette finally had the nerve to ask, still panting against the mop bucket and metal shelf, gazing up at Chloe in confusion.

“That,” Chloe said, staring down at her through half-lidded eyes, as an unknown emotion flashed across her face, something Marinette was too slow to catch, “Was me proving a point.”

She turned on her heel, hand on the door knob, when Marinette called after her, “What’s your point exactly?”

Chloe was suddenly leaning close, and Marinette thought she might kiss her again, but instead the blonde paused a hair’s breadth away, lips close enough to see the smear of red lipstick against her teeth, and whispered something low, something Marinette couldn’t even catch, “I can take you apart without lifting a finger.”

And then she was gone, and Marinette was left in the dark, empty storage closet, as confused and angry as when she first began.

“Well, fuck you,” was all she managed to respond before sinking to the floor.

 

*

 

The fucking, it turned out, wasn’t a one-time deal.

This was a lesson Marinette was slow to learn.

Whenever a fight started, whether it was due to their Miraculous or just because someone made a comment to piss the other off, one of them would be pressed against a wall, lips locked and panties off. Soon, they knew each others triggers like the back of their hands, knew which spot to press  _jussttt_ right to pull a ragged moan from the other's lips, knew what to say to get them to thrust and suck harder, knew just where to leave a mark that the other would find in the morning.

Marinette learned that Chloe had particularly magnificent fingers that could pluck her like strings, making a symphony of sweet magic with the right  _twang_ and  _strum_ , that left the superhero seeing stars for days after. She also learned that Chloe  _loved_ her mouth, the tongue that could draw out a plethora of moans and groans with a  simple flick and lick. The sex was brilliant, they never talked about it afterwards or got caught up in any emotions that might typically follow said sex, and Marinette didn't need to go scout out some guy or girl for a quick, dirty lay anymore.

Honestly, Marinette wasn't going to argue. Channeling her anger towards Chloe into sex was a perfect solution to their battlefield arguments, so much so that she couldn't even recall the last time they'd traded insults over an akuma's head, while Chat Noir and Rena Rogue struggled to keep up. The team dynamics were changing, for the better, and no one was particularly eager to upset things.

Things were perfect, and she couldn't imagine anything throwing them into rough waters.

But,  _oh_ , how little she knew.


End file.
